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I had a nightmare last night, and I can barely remember anything about it. The thing that stands out is that, although I felt like a boy in the dream, when I remember seeing myself in the dream, I sort of remember seeing a girl. Maybe I was a kid with Gender Identity Disorder in the dream. That would have been a terrific final touch, because I was also frightened, as I have been in previous dreams, of parents, and on the run to avoid their wrath. I don't remember why. I was Caucasian in the dream. I'm going to say that has more to do with seeing Caucasians everywhere, all the time, in all the forms of media than it has to do with the contents or workings of my own mind.
I called my county food bank looking for help. They sent me to the local Salvation Army, where I got a bologna sandwich and an apple juice box in a brown paper bag. I don't know why I keep expecting these larger Bay Area towns to have better-funded social services than my home town. The library here is just pathetic; Amazon and e-bay will probably get a lot of business from me this year.
I'd rather eat human flesh than bologna, so I tried to give the sandwich to a homeless guy. He just stared at me.
I feel really good today, probably because I spent a lot of time reading, and very little working on my Combinatorics take-home final. I can't wait until this course is over because I'll only have two classes to worry about for the rest of the quarter, and I have a scrumptious stack of biology books sitting on the edge of my desk, just waiting to be devoured during all my free time. I have a lot of things to learn.
Sometimes, when I listen to or think about jazz, I feel really worthless because, not only am I not a very good musician, I have no chance in hell of being a good jazz musician. I just don't have the swing in me. It's kind of stupid because I don't really want to be a jazz musician, even a mediocre one, but it bothers me when I feel that I cannot do something, regardless of whether or not I want to do it. I'm kind of spoiled because I've experienced being decent at things I don't even give a damn about, with minimal effort.
I also feel a little depressed that I haven't touched my baby in over a month, and haven't seriously played my clarinet in an even longer amount of time than that. I need new mouthpieces for both of them, and can afford neither. I don't even know where to get the trumpet mouthpiece I need; good old Vincent Bach doesn't make the size, so I'll have to find an equivalent size from another brand. I have no experience with other brands, and I probably won't find anything that feels exactly like a Bach anyhow. I wonder how much they would charge to make a custom mouthpiece? Probably my immortal soul.
I figured out that I can find information for my thesis on NASA ADS, but I need basic info, and most of those research papers are too specific to be of much help.
I think all research should be open to the public. Most of the public undoubtedly don't care and can't understand much of it, but it would be such a great service to those of us who are interested. I get so irritated when I go to look up some research and I'm sent to a page that asks me to enter my credit card information. Why don't scientists put their crap on the Internet as well as submitting it to these journals?
My German studies are coming along swimmingly and I'll soon be ready to start introducing myself to more Russian. I'm about 95% sure that I'm not going to put myself through learning Mandarin. They need to streamline that shit or something. Who the hell came up with this system of thousands of characters? I wonder if reading is big in China.
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